The pressgang came to William when he was all alone,
He bravely fought for liberty, but they were six to one,
The blood did flow, in torrents: "Pray kill me now," said he,
"I'd rather die for Mary I, on the banks of sweet Dundee."
This maid one day was walking, lamenting for her love,
She met the wealthy squire down in her uncles grove,
He put his arm around her: "Stand off, base man," said she,
"For you've sent the only lad I love, from the banks of sweet Dundee."
He clasped his arms around her, and tried to throw her down,
Two pistols and a sword she spied beneath his morning gown,